The working mother = The guilty parent…

This parenting and working caper, I feel is such an insidious game on the emotions. It creates a barrage of guilt and emotions and I feel it either too difficult or far too irrational to explain to hubby.

How do I explain that it pains me so that it has been SO long since missy has called me mama. That her first word was mama and was music to my ears; all through our holiday it was two weeks of “mama, mamamamama… mama!” and now nothing unless she’s hurt herself. Sh’s saying SO many other new words… but no mama. 

On the days I am not working we have such fun together, we laugh, we play, we eat together – we get stuff done. She is my entire world – I adore her beyond words, but it breaks me inside when she wants to go to others in the family and doesn’t seemed particularly fazed when I go to pick her up…


I am sure (sort of) that is a just a phase (hopefully) – any thoughts people? 

This time last year…

I CANNOT believe it is ALREADY October! October people… Where did the last year go? At the end of the month my lil cherub will be a year old… 1 YEAR OLD! It is maddeningly clichéd & scary how quickly time flies. It was this time last year I was having my last day at work and was nervous/hesitant/excited for the arrival of our little girl.

I remember the last 4 weeks of my pregnancy; I wasn’t that woman exclaiming “I’ve had ENOUGH, get this baby outta me!” but rather I think in the last 6 weeks I discovered that I LOVED being pregnant and having this human inside of me moving, playing, responding to my touch. I had so many melancholy moments where I wished I could keep her attached to me for ever… it was only really in the last week where I really felt huge, where going from a sitting position to standing required effort and I had to ‘hold’ the bottom of my belly if I stood up for too long.

I look at Amira now and I am amazed how fast she’s growing and am so hopeful for her and our lives together as a family. At the back of my mind there are so many fears that I have – will she realise how much I love her? Please let her be God-fearing, kind and good to her parents… will she realise the importance of education and constantly strive to better herself?

She’s 11 months now and I can already see little bits of personality shine through; how (for the most part) she is a pretty ‘cruisey’ child – she’s not fazed by much and is quite relaxed about most things; she’s not easily agitated and has always been placid. She’s an observer; when we get together for mothers group I notice how the other little girls are far more ‘rough and tumble’ – they attack toys and jump straight into ‘giving things a go’. Amira will watch them, observe then then decide from there. She’ll hold a toy and REALLY look at it; pass it from one hand to the other and then play with it. She seems to be a quiet, persistent achiever – I’ve noticed this on more than one occasion but it was never more evident than when she learned how to stand herself up against the sofa. She’s a happy baby but doesn’t laugh at everything – she makes you work for her laughter which I find so enduring.

Even as I type all that I can see her so clearly in my mind’s eye; as though I am in my living room and am watching her play with her toy Dora kitchen (and not sitting in my TV room while she’s sleeping for the night), I get all teary just thinking about how much I love her (I know, SO LAME!).


My Friday rant…

Nothing to report people. Or perhaps there actually is (this is probably far, far more honest) but that I really, honestly just can’t be bothered to get into it… hmm, perhaps I can be bothered but I don’t think I want to get into the nitty gritty of it all. And yet here I am about to get into it…

I am currently not at home (shocking gasps are to be made to anyone who has been around me and knows that I generally give-in to my mothers thought process as I cannot be bothered trying to rationalise things to her over and over again in differing ways hoping to initiate understanding)! I had told mum (via letter as she would never listen to me otherwise) and included money for board etc. I called her on the Wednesday late afternoon (the intended day of not returning home) to ensure that letter had been read and understood (sorry for ‘cold-ish’ manner in describing this – it’s the only way I can actually get through writing some of this… I need to be detached). Mum did not believe me, told (yelled) at me to come home and that she would be waiting for me. I told her I would call her in a couple days.  

No calls until about 7pm (I am normally home a little before this) then – BAM… barrage of calls. Voicemail messages commence; first angrily, then frustration, then apologetic, then crying. I could bear it no longer… I NEEDED space. I cannot begin to tell you how I was (and continue) to feel; Stifled, frustrated, guilt-ridden, annoyed, angry, upset, frustrated (yes, I know I have in already), hurt, disappointed… there are not enough words…. I just needed some time.

 I intended to call her the next day at about lunchtime (Thursday). I go to work feeling a little numb – not quite there. After morning tea I have someone tell me that there is someone at reception here to visit me. 


 Can I say that the irony is that it seems that my parents (yes, parents) seem to have this uncanny knack of making me feel jipped and screwed over (this is the ONLY word(s) I can think of to explain that feeling I felt) at my place of employment! My dad came to work about 3 years ago – whereby prior to that I hadn’t seen him for about… oooh, a good 16 years (long story, but he was NOT a good person.. and that’s an understatement!). Needless to say I had to act all appropriate in relation to be at work when inside I was seething!

 So this time around I was not quite seething… I was shocked that she had done this – we went downstairs: 

She told me I hadn’t called her to tell her I wasn’t coming home – I told that I had.

 She said that I didn’t. I told her to exact time I called and told her that in addition to said call I had left a highly explanatory letter advising of me not coming home for a few days, the reason behind and the need I had to just have some space. 

She said that she nearly called the police to get them to find me but that she didn’t want to embarrass me with said contact made by uniformed police officers – I told her she should have called the cops – that I had not problem with it (because they would have been like; “so she left a note telling you she would not be home for a few days, that she needed a little time to herself and you haven’t heard from her in the last 4 hours since she called to confirm that she wouldn’t be home? And how old is she madam? Oh – definitely over 18 there madam – call back when she’s really missing!”)

I said a few things that I hope sink in and make her think. I am hoping for a positive outcome as she seemed to get it. Mr A thinks I am deluding myself but I think I have to try (she’s my mum…). She wants me to come home ASAP. I explained over and over that I need some time but she will not listen… it is disheartening. I am torn between wanting to scream in the angry frustration of it all versus the disappointing sadness of it all.  

I called her last night to tell her I was okay (plus I had a missed call from her just five minutes before). She knew that I wasn’t coming home and yet still says “I’m here now waiting for you to come home.” Heavy, so heavy is my heart… why? When? Why can’t she just see what she does, what she’s doing? So we talk a little (as I had promised myself that I was going to remain calm) then she starts on again about things, throwing all this emotional guilt ‘stuff’ (“what will the neighbours think?” – I mean seriously, I am near certain that they either don’t care or have better things to worry about!). I really want it to be made clear here: I am so tired and BEYOND exhausted of my years of ‘sucking it up’. I am also INSANLY beyond exhausted and disappointed at the constant disagreements/arguments that I am having to have with her about everything from clothing, to shopping, to the clothes that I buy, to the food I eat, to the decrease in rice I am eating, to the fact that my shelf in the pantry is too full, to the issue that the said products on my shelf are not nutritious enough for her liking (she doesn’t eat it – hence I buy it for myself and do not expect her to pay for something she does not consume), to the fact that I use butter instead of either nothing or cholesterol-free margarine, to the fact that I see my friends on the weekend (apparently too much), to the fact that I’m, not watching television with her, to the issue of me not memorizing the exact duas she knows, to the prayer scarf I use, to the faact that i i will pary 10 minutes after her instead of AT THE SAME time as her, to the fact that I don’t wear a scarf, to the choice of man I choose, to the shoes I buy, to the fact that I forgot to buy toilet paper, to the cousin that hasn’t arrived yet… please… I cannot go on anymore. I am tired, tired, tired, tired, tired….

I DON’T WANT TO BE HERE! I just want her to understand what I am saying (what I have been saying, over and over, and over again in so, so may different ways.) 

But silently on the outside it’s all good. And in a way due to said engagement it is. And in a way she says that she understands what I am trying to show her (what I’ve been telling her for so long) and that if I came home she would show me that he understands – but then she starts up again and I don’t believe her… because I did psychology I believe that a person’s behaviour can be changed or “modified”, that a dying relationship can be mended as so long as both parties are open to it. but then I think that because I did psychology I know that previous behaviour is the precent of future behaviour.

And so here I am. Friday afternoon. Feeling like crap – like I am ready to explode – like I am really wanting to disappear.  

Meanwhile I do hope that you all have a better weekend that I do!